The Craft 2 So Be It
by Delusion Angel
Summary: What happens next?
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Craft 2 – So Be It  
  
Author: Delusion Angel  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Disclamier: I don't own anything. Characters, setting, blah blah blah all belong to Columbia Tristar or whoever.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Sarah lay in her bedroom, wallowing in the doleful tones emanating from her stereo, listening to her mother's voice trying to rise above it. She hit the volume button on the remote at her side and the song grew to a deafening pitch. She lifted her arms and ran her cool fingers over the two fresh scars running down each and winced, they were still painful to touch, she didn't mind the pain so much, but if her dad saw these he'd freak out. She stood up and walked to the dresser, turning her mother's photo face down before she opened the top drawer and reached inside to retrieve a handful of bracelets. Maybe now I can get some peace and quiet, she thought.  
  
Some were black leather, with deadly looking silver spikes, others threaded with brightly coloured beads. She slid each one, slowly, over her slender, tainted wrists, covering her scars, hiding her penance. She thought, absent- mindedly, that she could have simply cast a glamour over herself, and then she wouldn't have to accessorize quite so much. But she was staying away from magic, she reminded herself, magic fucked everything up.  
  
Sarah had spent the rest of school year avoiding Rochelle and Bonnie and watching everyone else avoiding her. Were her ex-friends spreading rumours, did people blame her for Chris's death? She didn't really care anymore. There was a knock at her bedroom door.  
  
"Can I come in honey?" Her dad. He and Jenny were heading up to San Francisco for a week to see some old friends.  
  
"Sure Dad," she yelled, kicking the power for her stereo, plunging the room into unbearable silence.  
  
"Jenny and I are heading off now. Are you sure you're going to be alright?"  
  
"Dad! I'll be fine. Go, have fun, relax."  
  
"I'm sorry sweetie. You have a good time too, no wild parties, no staying out too late…you know the drill. I better go, be good." He shut the door behind him and Sarah leaned back against the dresser watching through the window as he got into the car and drove away. Wild parties? She thought bitterly. Who the hell would I invite? She thought, fleetingly, of Nancy and at once felt like laughing and crying simultaneously. Poor Nancy, poor crazy, fucking Nancy.  
  
Just a taster…more to come. 


	2. A Way Out

She opened her blue-green eyes, slowly, blinking at the light. It was always light in here, it was enough to drive you fucking crazy...that is if you weren't already. She could hear Marie down the hall screaming for her meds and Darcy next door, scratching at the wall. _Jesus Christ_, she thought, _what the fuck am I doing in this place?_ She slid her legs over the side of her bed and rested her head on her hands. They'd taken her restraints away months ago, as soon as they'd rammed enough Thorazine and Clozapine and God knows what else into her to keep her quiet and perpetually tired. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to think straight, trying to remember the events that had led her to this shithole. Was it all real? Even she was starting to doubt everything that had happened. It all seemed buried beneath a psychotropic haze of little blue pills and psychobabble from her psychiatrist.

Holden was the worst therapist she'd ever met, and she'd gone through a few since she arrived here. He was the new guy, fresh from college, and two of his caseload had already gone terminal. Needless to say, he was eager to keep the ones he had left in good spirits. She sat across from him, inwardly amused by his permanent look of frustration and, just occasionally, desperation.

_"So I hear you've been asking to come of meds?"_ he said, glancing up briefly from her notes.

_"Yeah, ya know, I can't think straight on that shit. How am I supposed to get better if I can't remember anything?"_

_"Nancy...you know I can't recommend complete withdrawal of meds for someone with your...advanced delusional behaviour",_ he looked down at his papers and seemed vaguely embarrassed by his diagnosis. She bit hard on her lip. She'd been through the whole argument before countless times with various doctors. None of them had believed the things she'd told them. To them she was just another crazy kid in a whole hospital full of crazy, screwed up kids.

_'Look. I'm over it, ok? I know it was all just in my head, Witches, the magic, my powers',_ she knew she was lying, it felt like lying_. 'What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm okay?'_


End file.
